The Haunted Traveler May 2017 Edition


After a brief hiatus, The Haunted Traveler is back to bring you some of the best horror out there. Open up and tread with caution, the next scare is just a page flip away.

mound of dirt far over my shoulder. I was only three

feet deep, when the groundskeeper showed shouting.

“Having a hope in God, which these men cherish

themselves, that there shall certainly be a resurrection

of both the righteous and the wicked! Your son

will rise again, but this is not the way! There is no true

power in that defiled land, only the power bestowed

by superstition!”

I turned to him, he was crying, his hands held together

as if he would pray.

“Now if Christ is preached, that He has been raised

from the dead, how do some among you say that there

is no resurrection of the dead?” I asked, “Corinthians


The frail old man tried to mutter a response, surely

another quote from his damned book, but could not as

I had already brought the shovel across his face, and

knocked him into a nearby tree. He then fell to the

floor, and struggled to comprehend my actions. With

dirt and mud caked around his mouth, he looked up at

me and whimpered. Blood had begun to ooze from various

orifices, as well as, from a gash across his right eye.

I struck him again. Harder this time, but not too hard. I

would need him. I wondered how many before me had

tried to raise their dead loved ones, only to be stopped

amid their mission by this decrepit old bastard?

With a newfound calming silence, I returned to

the desecration of my son’s burial place. Tears no longer

streamed down my face, as I contemplated what

he may look like down there after a week of rotting

in the soil. Before now, whenever I thought of it, the

hollowed image of his face it was so haunting. I won-


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